


Trust to Terrify

by Laurasauras



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bondage, Dark Magic, F/M, Inappropriate Use Of Communion With Dark Gods, Intoxication, Pegging, Sex, Sex Magic, Tentacles, The Horrorterrors (Homestuck), Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Rose brings dark forces into the bedroom.
Relationships: John Egbert/Rose Lalonde
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Trust to Terrify

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TTMIYH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TTMIYH/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Ceeps!
> 
> I’ve used [this translator](https://lingojam.com/Homestuck-Grimdark) for the Grimdark speech, but I don’t think you need to translate, it’s pretty clear what she’s saying in context.

'I admire your enthusiasm,' Rose says, keeping her eyes on her reflection in the vanity rather on John so she doesn’t spook him. 'But I believe some things should be kept between a woman and her top drawer.'

‘Yeah, but you don’t actually think that, or it wouldn’t have come up?’ John says. ‘You want to try and freak me out. But it’s not gonna happen! I am just too used to your weird ways.’

She puts down her hair brush and turns to face him, raising her eyebrow. He’s playing with the lacey holes in her crocheted blanket, not as if he’s nervous; he’s just a fiddler. He’s never been nervous with her, despite her best efforts.

‘I sense a challenge,’ she says.

‘It’s totally a challenge.’ He grins at her.

‘I like challenges,’ she says, climbing onto the bed with him. ‘You’re sure I can't overwhelm you?'

'You haven’t yet.’

Rose smiles at him. He _has_ been a lot more open to experiences than she’d thought he would be, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t gotten plenty of beautiful reactions out of him. 

This is part of a dance they do, and they’ve played both roles on different occasions. She’s dropped a hint, he’s encouraging her to deliver. They switch easily between them, the tension of one being the temporary authority and the other humouring them consistent. Both of them like to lead. Both of them like to watch the other try to take the lead. And, though it’s an unstated element that borders on a secret, both of them enjoy giving into the freedom of submission.

'You will tell me to stop if it gets too much, won't you?' she asks, crawling closer to him.

He smiles, as if that’s the only answer she needs. Her fingertips end up on either side of his hips, her face only inches from his. His eyes flick to her lips.

‘John,' she says. 'Promise me you'll tell me.'

'I promise,' he says. 

She kisses him as a reward, nice and sweet, not letting him deepen it. When she pulls back, his eyes are soft and trusting. She only wants to break him a little.

 _'Vpzr yp zr, zu fstaomhd,'_ she purrs.

The shadows cast by her lamps surge from where they naturally sit and join hers. It pulses with power, eager to do what she wants.

'Rose, what ...?' John says. His voice is wary, but not frightened. He’s seen her perform magic before, but evidently didn’t realise she brought it with her to the bedroom.

'Do you want me to stop?' she asks. 

He hesitates. 

'No,' he says. 'I trust you.'

She smiles at him and cups his cheek. He really does, and that’s why she hasn’t been able to “freak him out”. When she’s brought out toys or suggested positions or played with the danger of being caught in public, he’s put all his faith in her ability to make it good and keep them both safe. With anyone else, she might be put out by their continued composure. With him, she can’t help but love him for it. 

_'Nomf joz yp yjr nrf.'_

The shadows slip from Rose and to John, becoming physical beings as they touch his skin and pull his wrists up to her headboard. She gets off the bed to allow them space to stretch his ankles out. The convenient thing about using horrorterrors as bondage equipment is that they don't need to fasten to anything.

_'Traorbr joz pg jod vapyjrd.'_

The shadows writhe around him, digging into his shirt and pants and tearing them with newly sharp edges. She finds it's taking longer than she would like, so she turns away to light several candles with the gentle touch of her index finger. When she is confident she has enough lit to still be able to see the vision that is John naked and bound by her darkness, she dims the lamps and the candles jump in contrasting brightness. The new shadows swell around her and some rush to secure him further. 

'Oh, you do look good like this,' she tells him.

He squirms, just a bit. Just to test.

'It’s a darker black than leather,' she says. 'It's exquisite, the way it melts into you.'

She unzips her dress and steps out of it. Her underwear belies her earlier reluctance. Her anticipation of this is drawn over her in black lace that matches the shadows that curl around her much paler skin. She almost looks pure white in the low light, decorated with inky patterns of tentacles and flowers. 

She straddles John’s hips. There are tentacles around his neck and thorns running up the curves of his ears. She takes the tip of his ear in her mouth and sucks on it. The shadow comes away from his skin and gladly pools in her mouth. When she swallows, she feels it cool and heavy down her throat. 

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she straightens back up. John is looking at her with those sky-blue eyes, trying to take everything in.

'Do you want to taste?' she asks him.

He nods slowly, as if transfixed. 

She smiles and licks shadows from his neck. He shivers under her tongue. 

She moves to kiss him and is pleased when his mouth parts easily for hers. She follows his lead and lets him be the one to chase, to drag the shadows from her. He moans as he tastes them and she feels his muscles, previously taut with anticipation, relax against her almost immediately. She pulls back to see his expression. He’s still alert, but he’s definitely affected.

‘John,' she says.

'Yeah?'

'The horrorterrors might affect your mind.'

'How?' he asks. He doesn't sound too concerned. She’s slightly misstepped, forgot how much more intense it was her first time. She’s so used to it now, and steps willingly into the intoxication. 

'Do you feel more relaxed?' she asks. 'Perhaps ... more aroused?'

'Yes,' he sighs. His eyes drift closed. 'Rose, I want more.'

'Watch me,' she tells him. ‘I’ll give you more in a bit, when I’ve seen what this much does to you.’

His eyes open again immediately and find hers. She smiles at him reassuringly as she steps off him to remove her underwear. She climbs back in between his legs, sitting on the bed and letting her legs rest over his hips as you face him. His gaze drops to where she wants it and she can't help but smirk.

 _'Aor eoyj zr,'_ she says.

The tentacles dancing across her waist and legs were already moving in lazy patterns, flickering like shadows do. On her command they fly across her skin and towards her centre. 

_'Dape,'_ she reminds them. 

The horrorterrors almost feel viscous against her sex. She gasps as they overwhelm her with individual tendrils, all moving at a different pace, with different pressure, working together to drive her insane.

 _'Givl,'_ she breathes. 'Fuck.'

'Rose,' John moans. ‘C’mon, let me free, let me touch you too!'

She looks at him as the shadows start to press inside her. She licks her stained-black lips and smiles at him. 

'No,' she says, calmly. 

His erection twitches against his stomach, but the shadows haven't touched it yet. She’s glad. He's hers and they're hers and she will be in control of this. 

'They're going to make me come right in front of you,' she tells him. 'And then they're going to help me fuck you.'

John swears and struggles against his binds. He can't shift much at all. 

_'Hobr zr rbrtuyjomh,'_ she says. 

She could probably command them just as well in English, but seeing him trying to figure out what she asked for is wonderful. He has no idea what is going to happen until it happens.

His reaction to the shadows pooling in her mouth, creeping around her nipples and swelling further in her sex is almost as gratifying as the onslaught of sensation she feels. It's _fullness,_ but it's better than that. It's liquid and smoke in and around her and it feels like darkness and lust and desperation. 

Though she has a higher tolerance than John, the darkness slipping down her throat is affecting her. She has sat in a circle of chalk and imbibed what felt like gallons of absolutely nothing and everything all at once, and with nothing but the shadows dripping down her throat, the hard wood under her bare legs and the supernatural coldness of the room, was brought to orgasm. Tonight, she can feel so much more; it's not an empty room, it's full of John.

She can't speak around the shadows in her mouth and she’s so close and unable to beg for more. She twists against nothing and it has no impact on the movement of her terrors, but her thigh brushes against John’s and his hot, _somatic_ body is another feeling among an onslaught of feelings. She cries out and the sound is muffled and strange. 

_’Oh my god,’_ John says. 

She reaches for her clit with her hand, wanting release, but the shadows pin her down. She arches her back and moans in protest, but they know her desires, have swum in her mind long enough to know that the knifes edge of frustration is where she loves it most. 

Finally, her body reaches climax and she shudders as the shadows work her through it, not letting her dwell in that place of over-sensitivity. They know she wants to go again, and only release her mouth as they continue to languidly stroke her sex. She gasps as she adjusts to being able to breathe properly again and resists squirming as much as possible.

 _'Jraq zr givl joz,'_ she says, as soon as she has her voice back.

The shadows do as she says, thickening until they look actually tangible, taking the form of a shifting number of tentacles protruding from her sex. So much better than even her best strap-on. She eases herself into a more upright position and pushes sweaty hair out of her eyes. 

'You're so _mean,'_ John says. A string of precome stretches from the head of his cock to his belly, shifting as he breathes. 

'I know,' she says, stroking his cheek sympathetically.

She shifts her legs so she’s kneeling between his and strokes up his thighs. 

'I'll make it up to you.'

Her tentacles float as if they’re caught by a gentle sea current until she shifts close enough to John for them to latch onto his skin. She almost feels as though they draw her hips closer to him.

‘Why do you have so many dicks from Bad Dragon if you can turn your lady bits into an octopus?’ he asks.

‘I have you as well,’ she says wryly. John makes a little distracted but amused noise. ‘They feel different, as I will demonstrate, and my dildos don’t ask for dark repayment.’ She watches him, her shadows stroking the curves where his thighs turn into ass. He looks fine, but he always looks fine. ‘Would you like me to continue?’

‘Yes,’ he says, with no hesitation. She waits and he groans. ‘I hate when you make me _think,’_ he complains, with no sense of irony. His eyes flick up as he considers her question properly. A moment later he nods. This time when he says yes, Rose doesn’t doubt him. 

_‘Trarsdr joz,’_ she says, and the shadows keeping him bound to the bed melt back to her. John sits up immediately and reaches for her. ‘Turn around,’ she says.

‘Wait,’ he says, and he shifts close enough to kiss her.

For a moment, she wants so much to stay on the track she was on that she almost stops him. When she’s the one in control, she sometimes struggles with allowing any movement within her scripts. She closes her eyes and kisses him back, resolving to _relax._ His hands are warm against her back, his posture curled into a slight slouch to compensate for the difference in their height.

‘Ha,’ he mumbles against her lips. ‘Feels weird.’

She looks down to see her tentacles curling around his cock, enveloping him in their darkness. John kisses her on the forehead as she’s looking, and she lifts her head to smile at him. 

‘You’re really beautiful,’ he says. 

‘Thank you, she says, stroking down his cheek. ‘For the compliment, and for this moment.’

‘You are also really silly. You sound like you are going to bottle it up or something.’

‘I am. I will mix it with elf tears and make a potion that can cure hypothermia.’

John squishes her cheeks together and kisses her forcibly pouted lips. He looks so pleased with himself as he looks at her, all in the crinkle of his eyes. 

‘Let me fuck you already,’ she says, voice distorted by his palms and her exasperation. 

‘Okay, jeez,’ he says. He releases her cheeks and kisses her one last time. She puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him from turning. 

‘Would you like another taste? It won’t hurt you, but it’s not unlike taking a drug.’

‘Yes please,’ he says cheerily. She’s heard him say the same thing when buying weed from a 17 year old stoner. She loves him enormously.

She drags a finger down her chest, between her breasts and then below her bra to her navel. The shadows cling to her as she does, and stay on her finger when she pulls it away. She holds it up for him to take in his mouth. He keeps eye contact with her as he _fellates_ her finger, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. He swallows and he droops with relaxation. 

‘You not gonna pull my soul out of my butt with your spooky octodildo are you?’ he asks, with just a taste of a slur. 

‘Please, John. Octopussy was right there.’

She guides him into turning around and holding his ass up for her. He goes easily, and earns a playful smack, which makes him giggle drunkenly. She inches her hips closer to him and speaks again.

_‘Trsvj.’_

She watches as one of her tentacles elongates towards him. His hole gently accommodates the tendril, thin and slick as it is. She’s conscious of the way her arousal is making her breathe deeper, sucking air into her lungs as if they can’t absorb enough of it. John makes a quiet noise of satisfaction.

A second slim tentacle joins the first. It’s just such an arresting sight, and she never gets to see it, she’s almost hypnotised. Perhaps she ingested too much before. She can’t bring herself to regret it. When he takes a third, she starts to move her hips in a leisurely way, and the shadows that remain inside her move with her. 

He groans as the tentacles shift, not only with her movements, but with the limited autonomy they possess. She knows, because the same thing is happening to her, the darkness undulating in ways that stretch and stroke her. She picks up the pace, the four tentacles inside John melting into one large one. She can see the soft suckers catching and then yielding to his hole and it makes her shiver. 

Rose starts to rock more urgently as the shadows inside her go deeper, harder, as if they _demand_ her second orgasm. John makes a helpless noise as his arms give out, pressed into the mattress as she continues to thrust into him. 

_’More,’_ he whines. 

‘Yes,’ she agrees. _’Yes,’_ she commands, urging her shadows to give them both as much as they can take. She holds his hips as if she can brace him up, but she’s almost using him for support as the tentacles mercilessly pound into both of them.

John starts to grind his hips to meet her, his toes, curling for purchase on the sheets as his messy movements urge exaggerate the stretch against his rim. He moans desperately and Rose remembers that she’s never seen him come without some stimulation of his cock, and she doesn’t think he has that. 

Almost as she thinks this, his knees collapse as well. She falls on top of him, bracing against the mattress to catch herself from hurting either of them. He continues to grind into the bed, and she grinds into him, sweat mingling as they chase their release. 

He comes first, with a choked cry, his muscles staggering through a last few thrusts. Her breath hitches at the evidence of his completion, and she forces herself to roll off him. Her shadows withdraw from him and instead focus on overwhelming her. She moans and grabs at nothing, until John moves on top of her and sucks harshly on her neck, his hand moving to pinch her nipple. It’s so physical in the midst of the incorporeal that her muscles shake as she whimpers through a long, violent orgasm.

They lie together on the bed, both of them panting, as the shadows retreat to their natural places. 

‘Please tell me I am not going to be pregnant with little squids,’ John says.

She laughs breathlessly. 

‘I have not impregnated you,’ she assures him. ‘Not too weird?’

‘It was super weird, Rose. There were tentacles in my butt but they were made of nothing. It was _so_ weird. I liked it though. It was with you.’

Rose kisses him tenderly. 

‘I can conjure an actual beast to wield the tentacles next time, if you like.’

‘I just do not think I could form a romantic connection with a beast.’

She pushes her hair out of her face and smiles at him. She has such an excellent boyfriend.


End file.
